Dusty Dolittle

This will be speedy. And kinda mopey. 'Cuz it's raining and I accidentally slit open my finger with an exacto knife and I'm feeling horribly guilty that I skipped the wolf walk due to the ungodly amount of running around I had to do today and it seems like everyone has just returned from sweet little vacations but me. My parents just returned from a trip to Texas and New Orleans and although they got me a piece of coral, a Cajun version of Little Red Riding Hood, some mardi gras beads, a voodoo doll and some postcards, I'm deeply jealous 'cuz I could use ten days wandering the French Quarter, oogling strangers and eating spicy foods.

Earlier this afternoon, the Handsome Guy called and told me that Serge, one of the producers he supervises at work, spent the weekend in NYC and saw Julia Loius Dreyfuss in Soho and sat next to Nick from the Apprentice on the plane and had all manner of New York minutes and I didn't. I've never had a New York Minute. Not one. I think I need to have one Now! Now! Now! or I shall burst.

On the plus side, yesterday Jack bought a Hoover Windtunnel vacumn cleaner and man! that thing hoovers like no one's bizness! And there is ample hoovering opportunity in the House of Wee. The wolf's spring shed has begun in earnest and there are literal drifts of Finny Fur competing with the mini-mountains of dirty eraser bits under my drawing table. O, and i ate of the chocolate this weekend. Yes, yes, I did. And I think three of my daffodils might open up ALL THE WAY tomorrow.

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